


Sometimes you gotta try

by Morathi_Cain



Series: Tharn and Type or Type and Tharn ~ feelings are never easy [1]
Category: TharnType the Series (TV), เกลียดนักมาเป็นที่รักกันซะดีๆ | TharnType: The Series (TV) RPF
Genre: M/M, Making Out, Pre-Relationship, Type is in denial, but he wants to try hickeys, lot of feels, out of curiosity, taking the lead for once
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-13
Updated: 2020-04-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:14:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23630686
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Morathi_Cain/pseuds/Morathi_Cain
Summary: Tharn and Type are something like friends with benefits. And they don't do hickeys, because Type thinks they're a waste of time and energy. But when he sees how Tharn reacts to them, he starts to wonder ...
Relationships: Tharn Kirigun/Type (TharnType)
Series: Tharn and Type or Type and Tharn ~ feelings are never easy [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1701343
Comments: 20
Kudos: 257





	Sometimes you gotta try

**Author's Note:**

> They're not in a relationship yet, but Type is slowly catching feelings and getting more curious and active. A bit of smut happens.  
> Have fun ;)

Sometimes you gotta try

Type hated hickeys.  
He hated being marked and marking others like this and the whole process giving hickeys or getting them was just useless. Why suck and bite a random body part, if you could have sex instead already? Why concentrate on something like this, if there was something more important to be done?  
Type didn’t understand why people would do it. Or even like it.

Tharn on the opposite apparently liked giving hickeys. Tharn also liked kissing during sex and exploring Type’s body slowly, oh so slowly. It’s so useless, Type thought, while he enjoyed it begrudgingly. He’d never thought someone touching so many different body parts of him while slowly working his way down to his erection could be as satisfying and hot as it was. The same with kissing. Who would have thought he’d experience want and a need to kiss during sex at one point? He hadn’t, but now he did.

Still, hickeys were out of the question and he told Tharn as much.

„Don’t dare to mark me!“

Tharn gave him his best puppy eyes and Type had a hard time staying strong.

„Why not?“

„First, I am not yours and I don’t want any signs left, okay? I have to change for football practice and I don’t want No to ask stupid questions.“

Tharn lifted an eyebrow as if that wasn’t a good enough answer.

„Second, it’s stupid. Why would you spend so much time kissing a random part?“

„You mean instead of your mouth or dick?“

Type spluttered. Nothing but gibberish would come out of his mouth and he felt himself blush until he was sure there was no blood left in his body, except for his face.

„Tharn!“

„Tyhypeee?!“

Tharn was grinning like an idiot, a provocation personified. Type hated it.

„Promise me: no hickeys.“

Tharn shrugged, not as grumpy about this as Type would have thought. For one strangely horrible moment Type worried if it was because Tharn had someone else, he’d go to if he wanted to give or receive hickeys. But no, that couldn’t be. Tharn had promised him, again, and again, he was the only one and Type would have surely seen any hickeys someone else had given him. But most importantly, he trusted Tharn and he trusted him with this as well.

„Okay“, Type said to make his point clear and Tharn started grinning again: „Well then. How about I kiss any of those other parts you’d rather have kissed?“

Despite rolling his eyes, Type didn’t say „no“ as Tharn pulled him in, closing his eyes, looking forward to what he’d been promised.

~~~~~

The first time Type got actually curious about hickeys was when Tharn accidentally gave him one. It had been in the heat of sex and Type had felt especially brave, letting himself go more than usual, moving his hips on his own instead of simply going with Tharn’s movement.  
When Tharn cried out and came instantly, biting Type’s neck in the process as he was shaking above him, Type was quite satisfied with the result. He didn’t even care how Tharn had come before him and was rendered almost useless for a few moments. He didn’t care how Tharn had clung to him, burying his face in Type’s neck, holding back his scream by biting down. Instead, Type had felt proud knowing he’d been the one doing that to Tharn. How it was his doing making the always-in-control-Tharn lose exactly that.

In the end, this stunt resulted in him having a bruise at his neck and he couldn’t even say anything. Oh, he definitely tried, but Tharn always told him it was his own fault for surprising him like that and Type remembered and stopped talking. No, he could only say it was Tharn’s fault, but in the end, it was his own and he didn’t care so much anymore.

What was interesting afterward was how Tharn reacted whenever he saw the bruise. Whether it was during meals, during sex, or simply while talking about something else, non-sex related. Every time Tharn would look in the vague direction of the hickey his eyes would get fixed instantly and he’d lose his thread of thoughts for a short moment before looking away and obviously avoiding the spot for the next minutes.  
Type really had thought Tharn would brag about it, but instead, he seemed almost shy. Tharn, shy? Really? Type almost couldn’t believe Tharn, who always seemed in control, who was the one with all those terribly corny pick-up lines and his open joy for embarrassing Type, could be shy.  
Still, the blush and the way he avoided looking at the hickey were clear signs and Type learned something new about himself: making Tharn shy made Type happy in an almost inexplicable way. And it made him curious. What was it about the hickey that made Tharn behave like this? Would he stop doing it at some point? How far could Type push him?

And so he started showing off the hickey whenever possible as long as it was visible. He’d searched for shirts with the loosest collars and ran around half-naked whenever he could get away with it. He’d sit next to Tharn with his neck exposed and show him the left side of his neck during sex.  
It worked every time.  
Every goddamn time.

It only stopped when the bruise faded, but even then Tharn would sometimes stare at the exact same spot and lose his train of thoughts for a moment, making Type wish the bruise was back. But Tharn didn’t bite him again. On the opposite, Type had a feeling he was controlling himself even more now and to suppress the urge as much as possible. Which made Type want it, even more, not knowing why he cared at all.

Hickeys were stupid, painful and a nuisance. So why was Tharn so fixated on them? On this one? Why was it so important for him, he even had to control himself not to do it again? And how would a hickey look on Tharn himself?

No, the last thought was stupid and useless.

Type shook his head as he continued to stare at Tharn who was still sleeping in his bed, probably still a bit drunk from the night out before. He’d been having a concert and Type was sure he’d been surrounded by beautiful women again. And men. He could clearly see it in his mind, Tharn smiling his business smile as people around him tried to get close and talk to him.

Would they still do it if Tharn had a hickey? A big one on his neck, visible for everyone? He showed much of his skin anyway and all the time, so it wouldn’t even need to be placed higher, would it? Would he himself be as fascinated by it as Tharn had? No, that would be impossible. But maybe Tharn would be shy once more.

Type imagined himself looking at this pale neck of Tharn in front of him, choosing a spot to do it, to bite down and suck, to mark. He imagined Tharn on his back and himself sitting on top, which had never happened till now, but he imagined it anyway. Tharn would expose his beautiful neck, which had always fascinated him, even before anything had happened at all. He’d let out those amazing, shaky moans and he’d lose control, even if only for a moment or two. Type would ...

Tharn moved, rolling around while mumbling gibberish but sleeping on.

Type stared at him, realizing his whole body was shaking and aroused.  
He’d been horny often enough, but this kind of arousal was new. The one which made him want to go to Tharn instantly to do what he’d just imagined. And more. The urge was powerful, almost painful and even his breath was shaky and uneven. He could only stare and ask himself what had just happened to get him into such a situation, such a state. He’d only wanted to make Tharn shy, but apparently he’d forgotten to stop at the right moment with his fantasies. Since when were his fantasies so intense? So realistic, so powerful? Even when he’d already wanted to have sex with Tharn he hadn’t been able to imagine it properly, their actions always vague. But now?

Damn, it was as if his brain had produced its own porno and he wanted it to be real so much. So so much, he could barely breathe while watching Tharn and his sleeping form, his strong arms, his long throat and his soft hair. If he could just touch him, feel his hair, he might be calm again, might be himself again. If he’d just ...

„Type?“

Type flinched, his hands automatically pressing the blanket against his erection, trying to hide it as if his thoughts had been immoral and wrong.

A sleepy Tharn was looking at him, his head barely lifted as he rubbed his eyes.

„Are you okay?“

Type thought of running to the bathroom for only one moment, realising the awkwardness of his erection while doing that before he actually did it. So instead he nodded, staring just at a spot next to Tharn, not daring to look at him directly.

„Come to bed.“

Type’s heart stopped as he heard the mumbled words, a bit slurred and so soooo soft and persuasive. Did he actually ...?  
Carefully, he looked at Tharn, observing the half-lidded gaze, the sleepy, open smile. No, Tharn didn’t know what was going on. Was he even awake? Would he ask Type to get in his bed besides for sex if he was awake at all?

Suddenly Type felt his throat tighten as if someone was choking him and he realised: he was afraid. Afraid to go to bed with Tharn for something else than sex. Would Tharn want to cuddle? Or would he push him away as soon as he realised who it was? And would he himself be able to lie next to Tharn being aroused like that? What would it mean for their... thing? Would it change anything? And what about his fantasies just now? Should he try or forget about them? But how could he? They were burnt in his brain for now, how could he even start forgetting them? Did he even want to?

With a shaky breath, Type started to stand up, his eyes on Tharn the whole time. Tharn who’d already closed his eyes almost completely again, but who was still smiling this damn smile, which made Type’s heart flutter more than it should.

He should turn back, he really really should.

But the same way his brain had refused to accept having sex with Tharn would be a bad idea, it now refused to believe a simple cuddle would be dangerous. Instead, he went on, his body still shaking, his erection still up, his mind in complete confusion, except for this strange urge.

Finally arriving at the bed, he sat down carefully, as if Tharn would send him away any second. But instead, he opened his eyes a bit, smiled at Type and turned over with a murmured „Come“.  
As if it was usual to invite your sex friend into bed to cuddle. As if there was any chance Type would actually do it. Because he wasn’t in love with Tharn. No. But Tharn was in love with him, so this was definitely a bad idea. Definitely.

Still, Type did it. Slowly and carefully did he lay down. He’d planned to be on his back as if touching would make everything worse than it already was. But as soon as he was lying, Tharn’s hand grabbed his arm and pulled it in front of him, making him the big spoon. As if this was natural. As if this was usual. As if he could hide his erection this way.

Type held his breath.

„Uh ...“

Tharn froze for a second, before he wiggled closer, not letting go of Type’s hand in front of his chest.

„Not yet“, he slurred, „Later.“

Although his thoughts were racing, although he was still aroused, Type felt a calmness wash over him, which made him lean his forehead against Tharn’s back and take a deep breath. The images of himself on top of Tharn were still in his head, were still haunting him, but the urge had gone back, was more of an echo in his bones, a tingle on his skin.

He had a suspicion it would come back later, but for now he was perfectly content to stay like this.

~~~~

The very thought of giving Tharn a hickey, purely for the science, of course, filled Type’s mind. Even days after his little fantasy he couldn’t stop thinking about it. Whether he was alone or with Tharn or in the middle of football practice.

He imagined himself pinning Tharn down, although it had never happened before.  
He imagined himself initiating the first touch, despite him usually letting Tharn do the part.  
He imagined himself starting the kiss as if that was usual for them.

He imagined all of this with such clarity, he’d wake up rock hard and panting in the middle of the night, wishing for one moment he could simply tell Tharn to fuck him. Now. Hard.

But that wasn’t how they worked. He wasn’t the one initiating anything but the one merely reacting to Tharn. Because if he’d do it instead ... what would that make him? Who would he be then?

Type stared at the ceiling, trying to ignore the desire still pulsing through him as if it was a mere itch, a scar he shouldn’t scratch. He wouldn’t masturbate, no. Because if he did, if he gave into these fantasies, Tharn would have won. And Type would have lost.

He didn’t know what exactly he would lose to, but to start the sex, to beg for it even, would mean he wasn’t any better than Tharn, would it? It was already enough to enjoy the sex, but to seek it out like that? He couldn’t. Not yet at least, maybe never.

Something akin to a sob escaped him as he lay in the dark, shuddering from all those damn feelings in his chest and his erection which still hadn’t gone down. Which was still hard and pressing, thanks to the images in his head which didn’t want to go away. No matter how hard he pressed his eyelids together. The images were so present, he could almost taste Tharn’s skin on his tongue, at his lips. His fingers itched to touch and to be touched, for something, anything, for ...

„Type?“

Type opened his eyes abruptly again, his breath hitching, his whole body tensing.  
This couldn’t be. Tharn was probably still sleeping, had perhaps only mumbled his name in his sleep?

„Type? Are you alright?“

His throat felt too tight and he felt a cramp coming with the way his hands were curled into fists. If he simply stayed quiet, Tharn would go back to sleep. He would turn around and forget everything, he would ...

Sudden footsteps came closer, made Type finally turn his head, his eyes wide and scared. Of what, he didn’t know.

„Type?“, the voice was soft and caring, making his heart ache even more, „Are you sick? Did you have a nightmare again?“

Should he say yes? Or no? Or not move at all?

The bed moved as Tharn sat down, close to Type, checking his forehead with the back of his hand and Type knew he was fucked. Another almost sob escaped him, making Tharn lean in, worry clear in his tired eyes. Of course, he was tired. He’d been sleeping till now and Type hated himself a bit for that.

„Your nightmare?“

Was it a nightmare to dream about giving Tharn bruises as if he belonged to Type? Was it a nightmare to know he wanted more than he should? To dare more than he should?  
Yes, it kind of was a nightmare the way he reacted, but he shook his head with every little bit of control he had.

Tharn drew his eyebrows together, barely visible in the dark room, and his breath hit Type, making him shudder and ... moan. It had been tiny and was cut short, but it was there.

Both of them froze, staring at each other in the darkness, holding their breath.

„You ...“, Tharn started, but would never finish. Because he got pulled down forcefully, his lips crashing into Type’s as he got devoured by a hunger he hadn’t felt yet. A hunger unmatched till now.

Type’s hands were finally in Tharn’s hair, at Tharn’s shoulder, holding on for dear life as he tried to put every wish, every desire into this kiss. To make Tharn realise what he needed. What he needed right now. And Tharn did, thank god.

After a few stunned seconds of being kissed, Tharn’s wit seemed to return as he climbed on top of Type without breaking the kiss. Tharn’s familiar weight on top of him, made Type calm down while bringing his erection back in full mode, making him buck up right into Tharn, searching for the friction, for something.

If Tharn was surprised about the eagerness, the suddenness, he didn’t say anything, but went right in, his hips pressing down and his mouth roaming Type’s lips, his neck and wandering down his chest. Type couldn’t keep it down and let out a load moan, his head thrown back and his fingers clawing at Tharn’s naked skin to push and pull frantically as if he himself knew what he wanted.

But ... didn’t he know? Hadn’t he dreamed about it?

With a sudden push, Type made Tharn sit up and stop, holding him away, but still close so he wouldn’t get the wrong idea. If Tharn would leave now, he would die. Simply die and hate himself forever.

„Type?“

The sound of his own name with Tharn’s voice made him shudder again, realising just how used to it he was by now.

„I want to try something“, he said with a raspy voice, so full of emotions he hated himself for it.

„Go on“, Tharn replied with a smile which Type could hear more than see.

It gave him hope and strength to do what he wanted to. And so, carefully and slowly he pushed Tharn until he was lying on his back, Type on top of him for once. A sight neither of them was used to. A sight which gave Type the feeling of sudden power, of sudden responsibility. Tharn, who’d never given up the dominance till now, was waiting patiently for him to continue as if he knew it was important. As if he knew ... although Type wasn’t sure he wanted it anymore. The power to lead the way, for now, to be the one doing the touching, initiating the next steps.

Still, if he wouldn’t do it now, he would regret it. Probably. Maybe.

Carefully Type put his hands on top of Tharn’s chest, feeling the soft skin beneath with excitement as if it was the first time. He leaned closer as his fingers wandered, watching Tharn’s reaction, his breath hitching, the way he controlled himself to keep still, to wait for Type.

Type who kissed Tharn tentatively on the lips while he touched Tharn’s neck, his collarbone, his shoulders. Type who intensified the kiss, until he couldn’t keep his hips from pressing down until their breath was heavy and hot and his mind was spinning. He knew Tharn was getting impatient beneath him, was itching to take the lead back, to go further. But he couldn’t. Not yet anyway.

With a bite to Tharn’s upper lip Type moved down, peppering kisses and soft bites on his way, enjoying Tharn’s huffs and moans. Until he arrived at the right side of his neck, the spot he’d dreamed about. The spot which had driven him crazy for days without end.

For only one moment he stopped and looked up at Tharn who had his eyes closed and his head thrown back, giving Type room to admire his lean and beautiful throat. A part of him Type had been fascinated with from day one. Which he had fantasized about enough times already. Which he had always wanted to touch and kiss. Which he now wanted to mark.

His left hand buried in Tharn’s hair he finally kissed the exact spot he’d dreamed of.

First, it was only a soft, almost hesitant kiss as he simply laid his lips on the skin beneath. He could feel Tharn’s breath hitch, could feel the pulse under his lips. For a moment he stayed like this, simply feeling, observing. Just as Tharn started to move impatiently, Type moved again, biting the spot this time as a warning.

Tharn instantly stopped, clearly waiting for Type to continue. And maybe being a bit stunned as well. It wouldn’t be strange at all, Type thought. He was surprised by himself.

Continuing, Type was completely focused on every little movement Tharn did, every little reaction.

Licking the bitten spot made the man under him shudder.  
Kissing it made his breath hitch.  
Sucking the skin brought out a moan.  
Biting it made him tense up.

Type felt Tharn’s hips move against his own in short rolls as if he didn’t dare to do more, too afraid to make him stop. But Type loved it. Loved how Tharn reacted to him, his touch, him being active and even a bit dominant.

Giving the skin one last lick Type leaned back, looking almost proudly at the spot while putting his weight and pressure on Tharn’s erection, arousing an especially loud moan. It was red, glinting thanks to his spit and looked overall marked and used. Marked by him, his teeth, his tongue. Not by anyone else, but only by him. Just for this moment, Type let himself be satisfied with this feeling of possessiveness. This feeling of belonging to Tharn and Tharn belonging to him as if they had exchanged some kind of promise. He would deny it in the morning, but for now, watching the man under him squirm and be his, he could at least accept how good it felt. How right.

After pressing his hips against Tharn’s one last time, he leaned forward and kissed Tharn on the mouth, enjoying how ready Tharn was to welcome him again. How desperate he even seemed as he held Type’s head close, his fingers buried in his hair, devouring him with an urgency he’d never shown before. And it was his, Type’s, doing.

Smiling into the kiss, he let Tharn take back the lead again, as he rolled them around until he was on top again, driving Type crazy with his lips and hands, roaming his body in a familiar, but a rather frantic way.

And even though he was moaning by now, clawing at Tharn’s back to urge him to just do something, Type’s eyes were still focused on the red spot on his neck.

Even when he wasn’t able to have one clear thought because Tharn was moving in and out of him in a rhythm which drove him crazy, Type couldn’t look away from the bruise right in front of him.

Even when he was close to coming because Tharn hit just the right spot, was touching his most sensitive parts, Type couldn’t keep himself von biting down one last time. Hearing Tharn cry out as he came surprisingly the same moment Type did, was so damn satisfying.

Even afterward did he stay aware of the bruise he was responsible for. Whether they were in bed, lying next to each other, or Tharn coming out of the shower, the hot water making the different colours shine. Even when they were outside on the campus, maybe even with Techno, he couldn’t stop himself from knowing and thinking about it. Even if Tharn had covered it successfully, Type had to stop himself from staring at the spot, from thinking back to this one night, from wanting to do it again.

Finally, maybe, Type understood why people liked hickeys.

He still wouldn’t let Tharn give him any on purpose though, but maybe, one day in the future, he’d let himself do it again.  
Maybe ... Type couldn’t stop the giddy feeling in his belly he got from just thinking about it. Maybe ...

The End

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :)
> 
> Please let me know if you liked it ;)


End file.
